Porcelain

Ushered into the world

with shaky legs and folded arms,

I inhaled insecurity

and exhaled distrust.

Built to please,

and fueled by fantasies of perfection,

I was raised to stand on podiums

where the floor was always lava.

I was the thinnest sheet of parchment

dried out and crinkled up,

like a whisper of a poem

that fears being uttered.

*

Imposter syndrome at its finest,

imperfection feigning as anything but…

and then you show up.

And you treat me like a porcelain princess,

and you devour me like the finest feast.

Here I’m left to stare

into those eyes

that gush with love,

and burn with passion.

The flames nearly engulf me,

and burn me alive,

singed corners leaving me wondering

if this podium is so high…

then why

do I feel a heat so passionate?

*

I fear the flames

like I feared the lava,

like I feared being anything but the very best.

“Good enough”

was bad enough as it is

without constantly fearing

that I’ll never live up to that gaze.

That I’ll never embody

that person you’ve mistaken me for,

because clearly we aren’t seeing the same person.

I swear I’ve looked in the mirror,

and stared down those tear stained eyes,

so I definitely know her…

but you always seem to love her regardless,

even when I can’t.

*

My mind’s so clouded with fears

and personal expectations

That even your light can’t penetrate the smoke,

at least not all the time.

I’m terrified to be burned.

I worry that what comes after

is the collective realization

that I really was just a tattered old bit of parchment

with the whispers of a poem.

So when I see the lava rising

I stand on my tip toes.

But you’ve been trying to teach me

that I’m more than a discarded poem.

You tell me my heart is engraved on porcelain,

and that the blaze I fear

will be nothing more than warmth.

*

And so, I step off.

Into the lava.

Into the flames.

Facing fears,

embraced by this act of faith.

The passion you project

resonates in my soul,

and the heat washes over me like

a shower after fatigue.

And you,

you’re my muse.

I’m engulfed in you,

and in love,

and in light,

and in the fire I feared for so long.

That fire I was sure I couldn't brave,

but you taught me

that despite my sensitivities,

or supposed fragility,

I can withstand the flames.